


I Wanna Dance With Somebody

by psychoticfire



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Fluff, Gay, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, also, but without the squip, halloween party, references, the squips never happened, they're so gay i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychoticfire/pseuds/psychoticfire
Summary: “Thanks for staying with me,” Michael said lightheartedly. Catching Jeremy’s gaze, he added, “I mean it. I don’t know why, but before this, I was worried about you leaving me alone in this place. I don’t know why I worried, but honestly- if you weren’t here, I’d literally be hiding in the bathroom.”“In the bathroom? You can’t mean that-”“In the bathroom,” Michael confirmed, starting to laugh. “Having a panic attack.”“Geez, dude.” Jeremy breathed out, watching his breath puff into the air. “Don’t ever worry about that kinda stuff, man. You’re my favorite person. Can’t abandon your teammate, right?”“That’s right,” Michael said. After a while, he spoke up again. “Wanna dance?”





	I Wanna Dance With Somebody

The phone rang right as Jeremy Heere stepped out of his bathroom. He patted his hair down self-consciously- it never really did manage to stay neat. The teenage boy grabbed his phone off his bed and glanced at the caller identification.

Smiling, he picked up. “Hey,” Jeremy started to say, but was cut off.

“Dude! If you don’t move your ass, I’m driving off without you,” Michael Mell yelled into his ear, laughing. His tone was upbeat, cheerful for once. Guess Halloween did that to everyone. “Get your Lady Gaga makeup done and move. Hell, I’ll do your eyeliner.”

Jeremy snorted. “Alright, alright. Give me a minute, geez.”

“One minute,” Michael warned jokingly. “Then I’m going solo.”

“Okay!” The teenager hurriedly stepped into his Converse shoes and grabbed the final touch of his costume, and threw his bedroom door open. As Jeremy made his way down the stairs, he said into his phone, “Who are _you_ going as?”

“Can’t tell you yet. You’ll see in a second,” Michael replied. “You’re not _actually_ going as Lady Gaga, are you? Because if you are, I’m leaving without you. And denying that I know you at the party.”

“Of course I’m not,” Jeremy said, waving to his dad before slipping out the front door. “We should’ve gotten matching costumes,” he added as an afterthought.

“Dude, how gay can you be?” Michael complained, but Jeremy could tell his friend was smiling. “After the whole Luke Skywalker and Han Solo thing we pulled last year? NO.”

“Why not? Also, where are you?” He scanned his front yard, but Michael’s PT cruiser was nowhere to be seen. “You didn’t leave, did you?”

“’Course not,” Michael said. “Give me a second, I’m circling the block.”

“ _Now_ who’s waiting for who?” Jeremy mocked. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Cut the shit or I’m leaving you behind,” the other warned. “What question- oh. Why _shouldn’t_ we do another Luke and Solo?”

“Yeah.” His friend’s car finally pulled into view. Jeremy approached it, hearing Bob Marley blasting from the speakers even outside the car. Rolling his eyes, he went over to the shotgun side door and pulled it open, sliding into the car.

“ _Because,”_ Michael said, hanging up the phone, “I don’t want to suffer through more of your Han Solo jokes.” Jeremy grinned over at his friend.

“Fair point.” The car started moving, and Jeremy reached over to turn the speakers down, much to Michael’s disappointment. “So, how do I look?”

Michael risked a glance before the car stopped at a red light. “Dude. _Spiderman?_ That’s so old school.”

“What did you say? Peter Parker is _never_ old school.” Jeremy tugged on his mask, the final touch. “Admit it. It’s classy.”

“Can you even see anything through that mask?” Michael demanded, reaching over to poke Jeremy’s eye. “Although, I’m not complaining. You’re wearing some pretty tight latex there, buddy.”

Jeremy lifted his mask- admittedly, he couldn’t see much through it. “Not complaining, huh?” He laughed.

“I was _joking_ ,” his friend said, although it sounded like a lie. “Can you tell who I am?”

“Uh…”

Michael was wearing a red hoodie- which was pretty much the norm for him, so Jeremy couldn’t tell whether or not his friend was even _wearing_ a costume. Flipping on the overhead light, he squinted at Michael. There were two sticks strapped to his back, and upon closer examination, they seemed to be sword handles. Wait, no… not swords. Katanas.

“Deadpool?” Jeremy exclaimed. Michael grinned back at him.

“Wade Wilson himself,” he confirmed. “It’s kinda hard to see when I’m sitting down. There’s like the Deadpool suit pattern thing on the front of the hoodie. And then there are the katanas.”

“So I guess we did end up going with matching outfits.” They’ve established on multiple occasions that Jeremy’s favorite Marvel character was Peter Parker, and Michael’s all-round preferred fictional hero was Deadpool, so Jeremy supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Guess we did.” With that, Michael turned the speakers up, and the rest of their short drive was accompanied with the classics from Nirvana. Jeremy cracked up when his friend attempted to sing the low vocals from Come As You Are.

They pulled up in front of a considerably large house a few blocks away from Jeremy’s neighborhood. There was already music blasting from inside the house, and even from a distance, the two could hear screaming.

Michael gave Jeremy a glance that read, _I give it ten minutes before the cops come._

“Probably five, honestly,” Jeremy replied. “Jake’s rich enough to not care, though.”

“True.” Michael grabbed the car keys and pushed open his door, coming over to Jeremy’s side, opening his door before he could. The dark haired boy bowed mockingly, gesturing to the house. “Shall we?”

Cackling, Jeremy shoved Michael aside and jumped out of the car. Standing up, his friend’s costume was much more visible- dark straps that held weapons, leather patches for dramatic flair… There were even faint burn marks on Michael’s face that looked like they were applied with rough dabs of concealer.

“Spiderman wearing sensible shoes,” Michael said. “Who’d have guessed?”

-

Inside the house, it was as chaotic as Jeremy had guessed. Drunk kids making out in dark hallways, people dancing- more like swaying, actually- along to the modern pop and EDM songs. The music was blasting at full volume from multiple speakers, literally rocking the walls.

Jeremy leaned against the wall awkwardly, not wanting to speak in case he accidentally insulted the party and people got triggered. Michael, however, had no such qualms.

“It’s like the devil’s anus here!” he yelled over the music.

“Can’t even breathe,” was Jeremy’s response. “Wanna get some punch or something?”

The look on his friend’s face was plain as day. _Punch? At a highschooler’s party?_

 _Stop judging me,_ Jeremy shot back. _Beer, then?_

_They’re probably spiked._

_Damnit._

The two of them reached a mutual agreement to get away from the wall and the crowd. Pushing his way past a bunch of drunk partygoers, Jeremy managed to not only get elbowed in the face twice, but also got punch spilled on his costume, and got kneed in the crotch.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Finally, he broke through the sea of people and made it to the refreshments. Michael was already there, tipping back a red solo cup filled with beer.

“What took you so long?” His tone was quieter, now that they were outside of the crowd. It was less of a yell than a loud, constant exclamation.

“Kneed in the crotch,” Jeremy squeaked. “Didn’t you say the beers were spiked?”

“I’m high 24/7 anyway,” Michael said, shrugging, gulping another mouthful of alcohol. “Geez dude- hope you can still have babies.”

“I’m one of those guys who’ll be a virgin till he dies,” Jeremy said back. “Hey, that rhymed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get a beer, Lennon.”

Jeremy settled for a cup of lemonade. Ignoring his friend’s judging looks, he drank half in one go, savoring the icy liquid as it went down his throat. “What are we doing here?”

“You dragged me along, Parker.”

“Yo! Heere, Mell!” someone yelled. The two turned simultaneously, seeing Rich Goranski making his way across the room. The guy was dressed in some sort of leather armor, barely visible in the dark room.

“Get out of here,” Michael said to him as soon as their friend reached them. “Jon Snow?”

“Not bad, huh?” Rich said, grinning. “Like what you see, Mell?”

“Nice costume,” Jeremy said, cutting in before Michael could reply. For some reason, he didn’t like the thought of Michael and Rich in a conversation without him. It was common knowledge that Rich was bisexual, and judging from that one time he asked Jeremy if Michael was single…

 _Woah_ , Jeremy thought to himself, cutting off his thoughts. _Why do I care?_

“Thanks, bro. Spiderman?” Rich asked, raising an eyebrow and successfully distracting Jeremy from his internal conflict. “Didn’t realize this was the nineties.”

“Exactly!” Michael exclaimed. “That’s what I thought.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said defensively. “Spider-man isn’t old. Sure, the first comic came out in 1962, but then there’s the films featuring Tobey Maguire in 2002, and _then_ there’s Andrew Garfield’s, _and_ there’s Tom Holland.”

“Holland’s a cutie,” Rich agreed. “You’re such a nerd, Heere.”

“Amen,” Michael added, and tipped back the last of his beer.

Eventually, Rich had to go “attend some business,” he confided in Jeremy and Michael. “There’s a hot meal waiting for me upstairs, if you get what I mean?” And with a final grin at Jeremy and a wink at Michael, he left.

Jeremy drained the rest of his lemonade and left the cup on the counter.

-

“So, what’s up with you and Rich?”

Jeremy immediately smacked himself mentally. _Why. Does. It. Matter. To. You. Jeremy. Idiot. You’re not gay. Probably. Not that there’s anything wrong with- damnit, stop. Thinking._

Michael glanced over at him from where he was sitting against the chimney. A few minutes after Rich had left, he said that he’d wanted to get some fresh air. So Jeremy had followed him all the way to the top floor, and through a window (during which Jeremy swore to never follow his friend again) until they were sitting on the slanted rooftop of Jake’s house.

“Me and Rich?” Michael repeated. Clearly, before that, he was thinking about something else. He shifted so the way he was leaning against the chimney allowed him a clear view of the night sky. “What do you mean?”

“N- Nothing,” Jeremy hastily said. “Forget I said anything.”

“Okay?” Michael’s tone was confused, but he quickly changed the subject. “So… nice party, huh?”

“Sure,” Jeremy replied. “I mean- yeah. Very fun. I feel very included. Here on this rooftop.”

“Thanks for staying with me,” Michael said lightheartedly. Catching Jeremy’s gaze, he added, “I mean it. I don’t know why, but before this, I was worried about you leaving me alone in this place. I don’t know why I worried, but honestly- if you weren’t here, I’d literally be hiding in the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom? You can’t mean that-”

“In the bathroom,” Michael confirmed, starting to laugh. “Having a panic attack.”

“Geez, dude.” Jeremy breathed out, watching his breath puff into the air. “Don’t ever worry about that kinda stuff, man. You’re my favorite person. Can’t abandon your teammate, right?”

“That’s right,” Michael said. After a while, he spoke up again. “Wanna dance?”

Jeremy started to laugh, but then caught Michael’s eye. The guy was dead serious. “What, here on the rooftop? I mean, I don’t wanna die _yet_ , I still want to try getting laid, but-”

“God,” Michael groaned, but he was grinning. “Yes, smartass, because we both have abilities that allow us to stand upside down and heal fast. _No_ , Jeremy, I was asking if you wanna try dancing downstairs. Get involved with the moving masses, eh?”

“I do not want to hear you say the words ‘moving masses’ ever again,” Jeremy said. “That does not exist. It is canceled for you.”

“You didn’t answer,” Michael pointed out. _“Do_ you want to dance? Because I’ve got some pent-up energy I’d love to waste.”

As if on cue, the song downstairs faded out from Despacito (thank God for that, Jeremy thought) into Whitney’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody, and Michael snorted.

“Sure,” Jeremy said, carefully getting up from where he was sitting on the roof. “But if I die during the climb back into the window and downstairs, I am so killing you.”

-

It took them roughly five minutes to get back to the main dance floor. Along the way down, Jeremy saw plenty of dark rooms with pretty suggestive sounds coming from inside them, and he was pretty sure he saw Rich making out with some dude from another class. There were questionable substances on the stair banisters and floors.

He made a mental note to take a long shower when he got back home.

“Dude!” Michael yelled at him. “It’s _Halestorm._ Get your ass on the floor!”

True enough, the start of I Miss The Misery was blaring over the speakers, the loud rock shaking the room. Jeremy shook his head and grinned, hopping onto the floor. Michael was dancing with some other girl- probably Brooke, judging from the bald hair.

 _Just go. Dance._ Jeremy was standing awkwardly in the middle of a bunch of dancing kids, and he had no idea what to do. The guitar faded into the woman’s soft vocals, and he figured this was the best part to get into the dance.

Jeremy started to nod to the beat, closing his eyes and letting his body sway to the music, which was slowly getting louder in volume. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he let the quick beats and melody carry him.

 _I miss the bad things, t_ _he way you hate me-_ Jeremy’s eyes opened at those lyrics, and saw Michael dancing alone as well. Brooke had abandoned him for Jake. His friend glanced at him and grinned, slowly dancing towards him. Michael’s style of dancing was more laidback, a contrast to the flailing limbs around them.

His arm snaked out and caught Jeremy’s forearm, and swung the other towards him. Michael pulled Jeremy closer, and grabbed his other arm, starting a wild mimicry of waltzing. At first, Jeremy was frozen- what exactly did you do when you were in the middle of a dance floor and your friend was suddenly Fred Astaire- but eventually he got into it, relaxing, going with Michael’s movements.

Michael noticed the change. “That’s right!” he yelled, and swung Jeremy out, turning his back so they started dancing back to back, clearing a small space in the floor. People were starting to watch, some turning to stare.

“Dude,” someone said to no one in particular. “That’s gay.”

As if hearing the comment, Michael grinned and turned back around, grabbing Jeremy and twirling the confused boy, dipping him as the song blared, _“I’ll miss the rough sex”_ and mouthing along to the lyrics. Someone- Chloe, probably- actually squealed.

Instead of turning away, mortified, Jeremy actually laughed at that, and his friend laughed along, pulling him up. Michael spun Jeremy out, and when it was Jeremy’s turn to do the same, he could’ve sworn Michael gave Jake a fist bump.

As the song neared its end, Jeremy found himself actually enjoying the dancing. _About time,_ a voice said in his head.

As soon as the last lyric (“I don’t miss you, I miss the misery”) ended, someone struck up a softer song. Jeremy froze at it, but Michael’s smile actually widened.

“Angel with a shotgun, baby!” someone yelled from the DJ stand. Jeremy caught Christine’s eye, and she flashed him a sweet reassuring smile.

Michael pantomimed cocking a shotgun and held out a hand to Jeremy. His smile faltered when his Jeremy hesitated, but when the other accepted the hand, his grin became wider than ever.

 _“_ _Are you a saint, or a sinner?”_ Michael sang along, badly, and pulled Jeremy along as he turned in a circle. His movements were slow, relaxed, the exact picture of chill. No sign of the Michael who told him that he’d have a panic attack in the bathroom.

 _Two nerds,_ Jeremy thought, _dancing in the spotlight, enjoying themselves._ He laughed out loud a bit at the idea. Michael caught his eye and pulled him closer, mouthing along to the song wildly, and eventually starting to sing along off-key.

 _“I’m an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war’s won,”_ Michael yelled, attracting a few odd looks and a laugh from Jenna.

 _“I don't care if heaven won't take me back,”_ Jeremy sang in a quieter voice. His friend nodded frantically. _  
_

“Now you got it! _I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe,”_ Michael sang loudly, sinking onto his knees and throwing a hand up to Jeremy dramatically. _“Don't you know you're everything I have?”_

Jeremy was laughing, throwing his head back and actually letting go for once, until something caught in his peripheral vision, and he stiffened. Some people were filming them.

Michael noticed the change and followed his gaze to look at the people with their phones. His mind made the connection immediately. Narrowing his eyebrows, the boy got up and pushed through the crowd, walking away from Jeremy.

“Michael- Michael! Wait-” Jeremy called after him, confused and slightly upset. His friend didn’t look back.

_And I wanna live, not just survive tonight._

-

Michael found Jeremy a few minutes later. He was sitting on the hood of his friend’s PT Cruiser, staring up at the sky. “Hey,” Michael said. “You good? You just vanished.”

“Yeah.” That was all Jeremy gave him.

The other climbed onto his car and settled into a comfortable position- well, as comfortable as one could get on the hood of a car, anyway. “You wanna… talk about it? I know parties aren’t exactly your thing.”

“No,” Jeremy started to say, but cut himself off. “You left.”

“I…” Michael was taken aback. “I what?”

“We were dancing, and I was having fun, and you were laughing, and…” Jeremy leaned his head back against the car. “You just left. I shouted your name but you didn’t reply.”

_Oh._

“Jeremy, I didn’t leave,” Michael said, tugging at his hoodie awkwardly. He wasn’t the best in awkward situations- come to think of it, he’d never shared an awkward moment with Jeremy in the twelve years they’d known each other. “I went for the DJ. Asked him if he could play something more interesting because frankly, I’m not the biggest fan of The Cap. And then I went and got us both drinks. But when I came back, you weren’t there.”

“I- I didn’t know.” Jeremy sighed. His head was hurting. A small condition that he’d always had, inexplicably, was that he’d get anxious or feel uncomfortable whenever he stayed outside for too long. Michael always called it his ‘human allergies’. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” his friend asked.

“I’m sorry. We came out for a good time, and honestly, I just ruined it.”

“What? You didn’t ruin it.” Michael shifted closer to Jeremy, nearly pushing the other off the Cruiser. “Sh- sorry. What do you mean ruin?”

“Running off?” Jeremy tried for a more upbeat tone, but his best friend of twelve years knew better.

“Dude. Seriously? I had the best time of my freaking _life_ dancing with you tonight. You think my good mood’s gonna be ruined by a small misunderstanding?”

A small smile started to form on Jeremy’s face. “You liked the dancing?”

Michael sat up straight at that, staring at his friend with an overdramatic shocked face. “You did _not_. Couldn’t you tell?”

“I liked it too,” Jeremy offered. “I thought you did, but I didn’t know how to dance, so I thought you’d think I was bad at it, and you wouldn’t like-”

“Let me stop you right there, Jeremy Heere.” The other didn’t even try to point out the pun in the sentence, so Michael took that as an encouragement. “Tonight has been awesome. You have been awesome. You looked absolutely amazing dancing.”

“I… looked…” Jeremy looked at his friend sideways. “How much have you drunk?”

“Two cups of beer. Why?”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “They’re spiked. Definitely spiked.”

“What? No! Well,” Michael amended, after thinking about the bar, “maybe. But you can’t possibly think that I’m saying all this to you because of a couple of measly, maybe-spiked beers!”

“Why not? Honestly,” his friend said quietly, closing his eyes, “I don’t get why you even keep me around.”

_Dear god, the lemonade was spiked too._

“Jeremy.” The boy opened his eyes and glanced at Michael.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know why I keep you around?”

Hurt flashed across Jeremy’s face, so fast only someone who’s literally grown up with him could tell. “Sure,” he said coolly.

 _Feel free to punch me in the face for this, Jere,_ Michael thought as he leaned over and gently took hold of Jeremy’s chin, tilting his face towards him. His friend read the thought in his eyes and narrowed his brows in confusion.

 _“Don't you know you're everything I have?”_ Michael sang softly, and kissed him, softly.

-

Jeremy’s ringtone woke him up before his alarm did. The teenager groaned as the piercing shrill of the default phone ringtone cut through his sleep, but felt around blindly in the dark for his phone on his dresser.

Successfully grabbing his phone, he lifted it up to his face to glimpse the caller ID, but accidentally dropped the (considerably hard, mind you) phone onto his face. Jeremy lay there in the dark for a few moments, phone squishing his nose, and wondered why on earth he existed.

After the commercial break existential crisis, Jeremy picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear.

“It’s five twenty, Michael, so help me God-”

The other boy’s laughter echoed through the receiver. “Guess I just couldn’t wait. Get the hell up, Jere, it’s Saturday and I want to take you somewhere.”

“It’s _five twenty-one, Michael,”_ Jeremy said in a jokingly furious voice. “Please don’t tell me you’re outside my house-”

“I am outside your house,” Michael confirmed. “So better move your ass, or this baby is beeping the shit awake out of your dad.”

With that incentive, Jeremy rolled out of bed and stopped on the floor to grunt out a weak “jerk”. Standing up, he grabbed the nearest pair of jeans and shrugged on a white T-shirt and a flannel. “By ‘baby’, did you mean the car or you?”

He could almost _sense_ the smirk. “I know I’m a snack, Jeremy, but this baby?”

Rolling his eyes, Jeremy tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder, tugged on his socks and shoes, and rushed out of the house, only stopping to grab an apple from the kitchen table. Outside, he enjoyed the cool breeze on his face. The sun wasn’t even up yet. Jeremy made a mental note to punch his friend before running off to slide into the car.

Michael’s PT Cruiser was still as comfy as it was a few days ago, when they drove to Jake’s Halloween party. Jeremy blushed at the memory of that night- the night when everything changed. Well, technically only Michael and he changed. But that was basically everything to him anyway.

“Where ya taking me?” Jeremy asked, still half asleep but managing to toss Michael the apple anyway. His friend caught it and bit into it, savoring each bite.

“How’d you know I needed this?” Michael devoured the fruit in seven bites. “You X-Man, you.”

“Technically only Xavier reads minds,” Jeremy reminded him sleepily.

“I’m taking you to my happy place, nerd boy.” His tone was unusually upbeat for Michael Mell.

“Happy place? We’ve known each other for 12 years, what happy place do I _not_ know about?” Jeremy demanded. Michael only laughed and started to drive.

The car stopped slowly as the Filipino boy pulled up somewhere twenty minutes away from their neighborhood. Jeremy had to be shaken awake for him to get off the car, something Michael would never let him forget.

“Where are we- woah.” The shorter boy had to take a few seconds to take in his surroundings. “Dude. Where…”

“Found this place a while back,” Michael announced proudly, gesturing to the small hillside. It wasn’t much- basically just a hill with a few oak trees ringing it, but if one climbed to the top and sat there before the sun was up, and waited with enough patience…

“Oh my god,” Jeremy sighed- _actually sighed-_ leaning back against Michael. The sunrise painted the originally dark sky red and orange, and the first sunbeams lit up the blond’s face. “Michael, this is… beautiful.”

Michael grinned at him. “Not as beautiful as you are,” he teased.

No one spoke for a while after that lighthearted comment, until the two of them were almost burning with the pent-up tension.

“I-” Michael started to say.

“Can-” Jeremy blurted out at the same time.

The two looked at each other and laughed, loud, almost hysteric laughter that echoed down the hill. It only got worse when one of them would stop, start to say something, but then get cut off by their own laughter when they looked at the other’s face.

Eventually, they calmed down enough to have an actual conversation. “You go first,” Jeremy said.

“Nah. You can-”

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Mell.”

The boy tilted his head back. “I… I’m thinking about that night. You in that costume. You being jealous- don’t give me that look, Jeremy, I know you were- about Rich. You dancing. Us, on the car. I’m thinking… I’m thinking that I’d really like to kiss you right now, but I don’t know if you’d want to or if you even want this between us-”

“Michael.” Jeremy’s voice was soft but firm. “Want to know what I was going to say?”

Michael exhaled, and nodded.

“Can…” Jeremy propped himself onto his elbows and turned his head fully towards Michael. He leaned in slowly, his lips barely an inch from the other’s. “Can I kiss you?”

Michael’s eyes widened, but he nodded almost imperceptibly. And that was all Jeremy needed as their lips met.

They didn’t get back home until much, much later.

**Author's Note:**

> what did you think? this is probably gonna be a one part thing but hey who knows  
> keep an eye posted for future works in my profile ;)
> 
> any suggestions for prompts? comment em down


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